Body Talk

With the article by Ken Goe that recently came out about the alleged (I'm assuming it actually happened) body-shaming that took place within the University of Oregon track and field program, many individuals want to share their own experiences or comment on the matter, even if it means potentially triggering others.  

I can't wrap my head around the fact that some of the same individuals who are adamant that nobody should ever talk about a woman's body are careless when it comes to posting images of themselves with captions that describe their perceived flaws. I know Kara Goucher means well and I generally like and respect her, but, regarding a recent post, she's ignoring concerns about sending the wrong message. The bigger message, that looking a certain way doesn't have to dictate what a person can achieve, is important, but that's not what she initially said. And if you're at all sensitive to potential stressors on social media, this is exactly the kind of content that can be problematic. But fuck anyone who's too sensitive, right?

What Kara said was, "If you look closely, you will see I have skin hanging over the side of my shorts, there is cellulite on my butt and there are no rock hard abs on my stomach." She goes on to say how fast she ran despite all this and also complains about how focused everyone is on looks, after suggesting everyone look closely at her body. A good point coupled with potentially triggering content will never sit well with me or probably anyone else who has or has had an eating disorder. As one commenter suggested, how do you think seeing an image of a very fit and lean runner with a caption about skin hanging over her shorts and cellulite, real or imagined, makes normal observers feel? This did not sit well with me, either, and I should trust that my initial reaction of shock is shared with at least a few others. 

There was a way to word the caption and avoid upsetting anyone. Kara could have mentioned that she's a product of our society or struggled with her body image or that her body was so scrutinized by coaches and fans of the sport that she began to have self-doubt if she didn't look a certain way. Instead, she made a statement about cellulite and skin rolls when she appears visibly lean and extremely fit to anyone on the outside, and it comes off as not well thought out, though the majority of individuals seem to have gotten the point or cheered her on anyway. 

In a world of black and white thinking, one in which everyone claims to be right, we have lost all nuance and, therefore, the ability to have meaningful dialogue. This is thanks, in big part, to social media. The way people react to anyone even hinting at expressing a different opinion is extreme. Remembering how people associated with Oiselle treated anyone who expressed a different view years ago, I hesitated to reply to Kara's post but did anyway, saying that I appreciated the comment of someone who pointed out that the post could be triggering. I then tried to clarify what I assume is the deeper meaning.

Rare is the individual who can sit back and say, "I see your point." Instead, defensive responses -- I'm right. You're wrong! -- are encouraged and celebrated, and that almost always leads to a pile on. It's no longer about trying to find answers, it's about proving you're on the right team, even if it means lying or triggering or offending others. If you express an opinion that's contrary to the majority, be ready for some blowback. In this case, it turns out there was no need for me to worry, as my comment was quickly buried by the thousands of heart emoticons others posted in response to the original post.  

Regarding the article, some are so determined to show that they condemn coaches who are body-shaming athletes, they're denying science in the process, just flat out making up shit or ignoring facts. Even though I agree with those who claim that the system in place by coach Robert Johnson is flawed, I don't agree that you have to avoid reality in order to prove it. For example, it's true that a lower BMI can aid runners if you just look at physiology and nothing else. There's no reason to say otherwise. It just is, and it's not a judgment about anyone.  

A lower BMI generally leads to an increased VO2 Max. Some people refuse to acknowledge this, even though a greater VO2 Max usually contributes to better performance in athletics. An argument against bullying athletes to lose weight can be made, though, when you simply accept that damaging athletes emotionally is bad, period, and it shouldn't be done. Really, fuck that coach. But there's no need to pretend that anyone at any size at all can run competitive elite times or that the studies showing a correlation between VO2 Max and BMI are wrong. You can accept the results of these studies while pointing out that there's more to performance than BMI and VO2 Max levels and how the body is able to use and transport oxygen. Performance really doesn't come down to physiology alone, especially regarding weight and BMI. That's only one aspect of competition, but it is something to consider. The question that needs to be addressed is how to build programs that foster healthy athletes while still allowing them to be successful in sport. That kind of program should never include body-shaming but doesn’t have to ignore numbers completely. 

The DEXA scans use at the University of Oregon measure more than body fat. It's unfortunate that a coach would focus more on BMI and end up mistreating athletes while letting important feedback like bone density, which is also measured by the same scans, take the back seat. 

The article states:

Johnson contends his scientific approach largely removes human bias from judgments about athletes and allows the UO coaching staff to design workouts precisely tailored to each athlete’s needs.

“Track is nothing but numbers,” he says. “A good mathematician probably could be a good track coach.”

But in this statement, he removes important variables. Humans are complex, emotional beings, not computers or machines you can simply program to run a certain way, well, most of them anyway. The point is that if the mental stress of maintaining a certain BMI or a certain weight is extreme, it won't help an athlete run faster, nor will the physical stress of potentially not getting the right nutrients during formative years. Proper nutrition is especially important for young women who are menstruating, going through puberty, or experiencing growth changes that often require an increase in caloric intake in order for the one going through these experiences to remain healthy. 

I think most rational individuals will agree that a healthy approach to training younger athletes is to allow individuals some leeway. Numbers can be used as an effective tool for feedback, but who's to say what BMI is optimal for each individual? Two women who are the same height might run faster and be healthier overall at different weights and at different body fat percentages. Though personal observation is never the same as an actual study, I can't help but think about my time at BYU. Our cross country team had four runners near the top, all of whom could run close to the same time over a 5k course, but all were different body types and weights. That being said, the variations between us weren't extreme. None of us is 7-feet tall, for example. 

Coaches, both male and female, who are abusive are prevalent in the running community. It is and has been a widespread problem that's just beginning to be more formally addressed. I'm not sure how to respond to the additional information in the article, such as the bit about how OU has a "cozy relationship with Nike, which underwrites the funding for USA Track & Field and sponsors a high percentage of professional track athletes." I'm more concerned that an athlete was told by a nutritionist that she should consider lowering her body fat to about 13% from 16%. Aside from the fact that track programs need registered dietitians, not nutritionists who don't have the same qualifications, it's just absurd to think that this was a point of focus for the coaching staff instead of overall health, both physical and mental. You just can’t run as well if you're under too much additional stress. Running is hard enough as it is. 

Melody Fairchild had probably one of the most thoughtful and sensible responses I have read on the matter. She's someone who is working to make changes in the sport. Instead of complaining about it, like many of us do, she is taking active steps to improve the sport by setting an example as a coach and mentor. The world needs more Melody Fairchilds. She is such a positive light and provides hope when the world can feel so dark.   

Injuries And Mental Health

Now it's my turn to struggle. 

The health care system in the United States doesn't completely suck all the time, just most of the time. Though some people in the field can be difficult to work with, there are also individual doctors and healthcare workers who can be nice or even helpful. I'm not referring to ER docs or anyone helping COVID patients. This relates to issues in the medical field in big, broad, general terms. The problem is all the bullshit a patient has to wade through in order to see anyone and not knowing if whom you're allowed to see is any good. Even when you find good doctors, scheduling is a catch-22. You can't make one appointment or get treatment without first having to schedule a different appointment, the appointment before the appointment, and since both appointments are booked at least a month out, waiting for months at a time in order to have anything even accessed is the norm these days. 

Before every visit to the doctor, therapist, or surgeon, you must fill out large piles of paperwork or sell your first-born child to the devil, which makes getting anything done difficult, especially for those of us who are childless and plan on staying that way. Even when you finally do get to see an actual person after moving mountains to get through the office doors, the result is often a shrug of the shoulders accompanied by an announcement that their department doesn't deal with your type of issue. Basically, nothing can be done. Cheer up, bitch. 

This spring, I was able to see my podiatrist after a long wait. He suggested surgery, something we discussed previously, but said that I could consider a different procedure if I wanted, one that looked somewhat promising. I mentioned to the office manager that I didn't want to lose the potential surgery date I was initially offered in June, three weeks from the time of my appointment, the one I waited about a month to get, but also wanted to consider the other procedure. She reassured me that the doctor always has openings for surgery and that, given how long I had been dealing with the issue (years), I shouldn't worry. She could squeeze me in if the other procedure I wanted to try first didn't work. 

So I did try it, and what a disaster that was, from the additional wait time, a month to get my foot looked at and another couple of weeks for the actual procedure that was far more painful and far less effective than I anticipated, to the conflicting messages I received about how things would go, it was all a giant mess. Plus, it was horrifying to see my foot expand like a blowfish, even with some warning shortly before the doctor administered the six shots with two vials of liquid each. How is it possible for one body part absorb that much fluid? Lastly, the constant nagging about payment when the billing office couldn't even bother to send an actual invoice, just a short and snippy email demanding PAY US MONEY NOW!!! was annoying. 

Shortly after I realized that donating about $1,000 to individuals who couldn't fix the problem was a mistake, I called my doctor to schedule the surgery, but he couldn't see me for another two months. In the meantime, I got a second opinion from a specialist in Denver who was excellent but couldn't consider doing any work on me because of my insurance. At that point, I called my doctor's office a second time and let the office manager know that I was requesting a surgery date, however, a month later when I finally was able to see him, the scheduling office let me know that he suddenly had no time. They said that he wouldn't be able to do the surgery until over a month later. During all these months my limp worsened, and in the week after seeing him, I developed a new, far more debilitating injury that has left me unable to walk. One thing leads to another, dominoes. At this point, I'm shuffling around as best I can, but I'm unbelievably disappointed in… no, angry at the way patients are treated.

When an injury is coming on, the desperation is intense. How often I've thought, "Oh no! I'll never be able to run again! How will I survive without running?" I hate this fear, and no matter how many times I realize that it's like jumping into a pool or a murky lake, tremendous anxiety followed by acceptance, I still freak out. It won’t kill me, even if the entire process is uncomfortable and depressing and the murky water seems to drag me down deeper and deeper before a release allows me to swim to the surface. I struggle. Every fucking time I fight it. It is survivable, though. Patience.

In sharp contrast to being ignored and cast aside by western medicine, alternative medicine more often than not provides almost immediate (within days) treatment. In this field, you will find far more compassionate and caring individuals if you look in the right places, however, there are a lot of quacks and scammers out there. Still, there are also plenty of individuals who actually want or feel driven to help others and who take extra time to do so. Sometimes it takes a team to keep a person off the ledge, and simply feeling heard can be an effective form of therapy, even if the physical issues linger stubbornly. And sometimes there's a little magic that happens, a tiny glimmer of hope with thoughts of a future with at least some painless moments. 

As most active individuals can imagine, I'm hurting more than physically and have experienced some of the deepest lows I can remember in a long time. The water pulled me under. I'm drowning, all while trying to remind myself that taking myself too seriously isn't helpful. As I get older, it seems the highs in life have tapered off as the valleys grow. I can't shake this feeling of being selfish, wrapped up in my own pain. It's difficult to be in the world and not want to curl up into a ball and avoid everyone. The frantic feeling of wanting to do something drastic has subsided a little in recent days, but for some of us or possibly many of us, ending things permanently will always beckon, sometimes softly and at other times more intrusively. Considering that option without necessarily having a plan to follow through is normal, even for people who don't struggle with mental health issues, suffer from clinical depression, or have chronic pain. Some of us just look at our "should I stay or should I go now" options more frequently and thoroughly. 

So often, I think how silly my thoughts can be when there are others who have endured far worse. Why am I so afraid to let go? Physical pain combined with emotional suffering isn't easy to navigate, though. I'm trying to ease up on myself for my reactions and force the dictator voice in my head into a corner. It's only partly working. Pain is such a strange symptom, and the way pain is perceived is even more bizarre. It's complicated, and in a weird way, pain is in your head because the brain is what interprets these kinds of sensations. That's not the same thing as saying "It's in your head," of course.

After all these years of no longer being a competitive runner and dropping out of the running scene, for the most part, I still get caught up in my identity as an athlete. It's even more difficult now because I can't throw myself into other activities as long as I'm hurting when I try to walk. I have short bouts of hope followed by overwhelming worry and grief that this pain may never go away completely. Everything I do outside of running or really jogging, aside from writing, which I haven't really been doing much of and don't feel like I excel at, involves being able to move, volunteering in a vet clinic, working, and helping my mom, etc. I'm doing as much as I can, but sometimes the shooting pain causes me to wince or even yelp, and favoring one side is wrecking the opposite side of my body, something the medical field doesn't seem to give a shit about. They treat one issue and one issue only. It's a challenge to get around and do normal everyday activities, and if I think too hard about it, I want to quit. This is not how I want my life to be, but neither is a life of burying myself in my own compulsions. 

When I was getting physical therapy or other types of treatments previously, many years ago, it was with the idea that I would be running and racing again. I could justify the expense, time, and effort (healing takes work) by thinking that I would do something memorable with running. Those days are over, so it's harder to feel deserving of treatment or surgery if I'm not going to be extraordinary in something. The truth and what mentors keep trying to remind me is that life is more about who you are than what you do, but, damn, my soul aches when I can't run. Then again, the battle with OCD is there, so running doesn't always serve me well. When I'm in a routine or fall into a compulsive rut, I panic at the thought of not moving outside. What would I do if I couldn't run? When I'm injured and have to force myself to stop fighting it, I go from thinking I just want to be out of pain to wishing I could just walk without pain to knowing that my real desire is to run again. Good or bad, running is an addictive sport. When treated in a certain way, it's like an abusive lover with all its ups and downs, but my god does it feel good sometimes. Other people have a different kind of relationship with their sport. 

Thinking about recovery from an eating disorder perspective, getting better from an illness or injury doesn't necessarily mean you have to go on to place in the Olympics. Despite the many heroic journeys shown in the media recently, the majority of us don't go on to become world-class, nor should we have to in order to be relevant and appreciated or feel deserving. What I'm having trouble with most in this injury cycle is an inability to redirect my attention elsewhere, because if I can't walk without pain, I can't really engage in the things I love to do. I say "love" meaning the things I feel compelled to do or the things I find rewarding. In that sense, I love my job. I love volunteering. I even love running, but in a "How to Be Perfectly Unhappy" kind of way. 

Like many people on the Internet, I can sit behind a computer screen and dictate what others "should" do in times of injury, relax, trust that things will get better, redirect attention elsewhere, go easy on yourself physically and mentally, and reach out for help, but my brain gets a little foggy and my thoughts a little frantic when I'm wrestling with what to do. I go back and forth, searching for a cure and handing out money to potential healers as part of that process followed by an intense desire to give up. It took me longer than I want to admit to write this, but I'm hoping it will be cathartic to put some words together since being productive is such a challenge at the moment. The only more positive experience I have had recently is spending time outside either collecting fruit from our trees or cutting down dead or dying branches with an extendable chainsaw. Who knew how satisfying that could be?

And today I walked from my car to work with a tad less pain. Do I dare become optimistic? Not after the walk back, but perhaps there's still a possibility for some magic to occur. Shit.

When Your Mentors Struggle

Life can come at you hard at any given moment. Lately, a few people close to me have been pounded by extremely challenging events, deaths in the family, injuries, divorce, and other types of loss. It's hard to watch anyone you love suffer, especially when you see them slipping emotionally as well. 

Recently, my sister faced a string of upsetting events that started with the announcement of a divorce and, unrelated, ended with her having an accident at her home that landed her in the hospital. Fortunately, my nephew was home to help her, and, after receiving 18 stitches on her forehead, she is doing the right things by reaching out for help and taking care of herself throughout these added life challenges. Still, she has a long road ahead, and it's never easy to see someone you love in pain. Because it's a head injury, it's a lot more concerning than something like a broken wrist. 

Someone else I consider a good friend and mentor also survived a brutal accident and other hardships recently, but she is struggling more in other ways. I see her inner turmoil but can't figure out how to help, especially since her family has already stepped in to try to do so to no avail.  

It's always important to remember that mentors, teachers, idols, and athletes are human. Everyone hurts, struggles, gets injured, and has setbacks. At a time when I really needed, my mentor was there to fish me out of the coldest, darkest regions of hell and pull me through the flames to safer ground. That doesn't mean she's invincible or that I’ll never struggle again. It just means she was there and responded in a way that was beneficial to me when I called out for help. 

While you can throw a lifeline to someone who doesn't want it or isn't ready to accept it, be prepared that the response might not be what you hope for or expect. Despite being able to see when someone is restless and experiencing internal conflict, I'm not in a position where I can provide a potential remedy if the one struggling doesn't ask for or want help. All anyone can do in this kind of situation is continue to offer support, even if the offers go unaccepted. It's a tough position to be in, wanting to help someone who doesn't want the support. 

Regarding mentors, just because one might slip, it doesn't mean the lessons she taught are invalid. It's unrealistic to think that those who struggle can't give back to their communities or provide help to someone else. It's a shame that people, especially women, feel the need to present themselves primarily in one of two ways, either as superhuman and perfect or in a self-deprecating way, very little in between when that's where most of us live. The message on social media is that you either have to be flawless or you have to be a failure but funny about it. It comes back to honesty falling through the cracks because people would rather be viewed a certain way than be real and possibly vulnerable. 

The research that came out confirming that Instagram is harmful to the well-being of teens probably extends past the teenage years. More and more, I'm limiting social media in ways that allow me to avoid "influencers" as much as possible. These are generally not people who have your best interest at heart and consist primarily of those who flaunt their own warped relationships with their bodies and food or those who are out for a profit. Seeing that kind of content doesn't improve my mental health one bit. If anything, it puts me at risk for feeling bad or angry. 

This week, I find out if my 13th foot surgery is a go or not. If so, I'm actually hoping it will be number 13 and 14 rolled into one, but it's unlikely the doctor will do that. I don't like the idea of going under the knife knowing one surgery will only potentially resolve one of two issues, but patients don't always get a choice in how these operations go. Either way, the decision isn't easy. While I *can* run, I'm also experiencing terrible bouts of nerve and joint pain even outside of running, mostly when walking or standing, which makes volunteering at the Humane Society, something I find very rewarding, difficult. Obviously, the idea of another surgery has impacted my emotional health in a negative way. With uncertainty, I have to be careful about how critical my inner voice can become and need to work on decreasing the anxiety that comes with a lack of perceived control. As always, listening to my favorite podcasts keeps my monkey mind at least a little less agitated. I can tell I’m a bit all over the place here, but I think I’ll let it slide.

Last week, I tuned into an episode of The Science of Sport podcast that addressed the new guidelines released by the multiple sports councils in the UK regarding transgender athletes and their participation in sports. An article in the Guardian summed up their findings nicely:

"Trans women retain physique, stamina and strength advantages when competing in female sport, even when they reduce their testosterone levels, new guidelines for transgender participation in national and grassroots sport published by the UK sports councils will say..."

From the podcast, the key takeaway reiterates this idea that a large body of strong evidence (not one or two weak studies) shows that suppressing T levels does not remove the biological differences that create performance differences that males have over natural females. In other words, these differences are not like varying height in basketball players or arm length in swimmers, which was always a ridiculous comparison. The differences and ultimately advantages are far more extreme than that. 

What people do with this information is the real question, but it has been crickets from the running journalists in this country who have consistently demanded inclusion over fairness but falsely claimed inclusion is fair. In this case, either you believe the science or you don't. There's no denying it now, which is what many of us thought about the Houlihan burrito defense being shown to be unlikely after the CAS ruling came out, and yet that dead horse is still being flogged.